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A  CALIFORNIA  PILGRIMAGE 


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A  CALIFORNIA 
PILGRIMAGE 


BEING  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  OBSERVANCE  OF  THE 

SIXTY-FIFTH  ANNIVERSARY  OF  BISHOP  KIP'S  FIRST  MISSIONARY 

JOURNEY  THROUGH  THE  SAN  JOAQUIN  VALLEY  TOGETHER  WITH 

BISHOP  kip's  own  STORY  OF  THE  EVENT  COMMEMORATED 


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PUBLISHED  AT  FRESNO,  CALIFORNIA,  FOR 

PRIVATE  SUBSCRIPTION  ONLY 

MDCCCCXXI 


COPYRIGHT  igli  by  LOUIS  C.  SANFORD 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A  PILGRIMAGE  TO  FORT  MILLER 5 

A  DIGEST  OF  THE  SERMON  PREACHED  ON  THE  OCCASION     .  13 

LETTERS  OF  THE  RT.  REV.  W.  INGRAHAM  KIP,  D.  D. 

I.  LOS  ANGELES 20 

II.  FORT  TEJON 30 

III.  THE  PLAINS  AND  FORT  MILLER 40 


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A  PILGRIMAGE  TO  FORT  MILLER 


IXTY-FIVE  years  ago  the  interior  of  California  yi 
was  an  almost  unknown  desert.  Herds  of  California 
antelope  roamed  over  its  untilled  plains.  Its  Pilgrimage 
mountain  fastnesses  had  been  penetrated  by 
only  a  few  venturesome  explorers.The  foot- 
hills, between  the  plains  and  the  peaks,  har- 
bored a  handful  of  white  settlers  who  had 


been  drawn  by  the  lure  of  gold,  or  the  amazing  fertility  of  the 
river  bottoms,  but  for  the  most  part  remained  the  hunting 
ground  of  bands  of  redmen,  aggregating  five  thousand  souls, 
perhaps,  who  gathered  acorns  and  pine  nuts  and  speared  the 
fish  in  the  shallows  of  the  streams. 

Clashes  between  the  savages  and  the  pioneers  occasioned 
the  planting  of  two  army  posts  in  this  region:  Fort  Tejon  in 
the  pass  which  afforded  exit  from  the  San  Joaquin  Valley 
into  Southern  California  and  Fort  Miller  on  the  San  Joaquin 
River,  guarding  the  approaches  to  the  Southern  Mines.  Sub- 
stantial adobe  buildings  were  eredted  by  the  government  at 
each  place,  and  garrisoned  with  a  company  of  artillery.  When 
the  Indians,  beaten  in  a  decisive  battle,  sued  for  peace,  the 

5 


i3     *• 


A  treaty,  to  which  the  Chieftains  of  the  several  bands  affixed 
California  their  mark,  was  ratified  on  a  plateau  just  above  Fort  Miller. 
Pilgrimage  Between  Stockton  at  the  mouth  of  the  Valley,  and  Los 
Angeles  in  the  South,  the  only  settlements  were  at  these  forts. 
Tejon  was  a  strictly  military  encampment,  but  near  Fort 
Miller,  a  village  of  about  one  hundred  inhabitants  established 
itself,  and  taking  the  name  of  Millerton,  became  the  county 
seat  of  Fresno  County. 

In  1855  Major  Townsend,  of  the  Arsenal  at  Benicia,  was 
instrucSbed  to  inspe(5t  these  army  posts,  and  Bishop  Kip  embraced 
the  opportunity  to  visit  this  raw  country  with  him.  The  story 
of  the  trip  was  told  in  three  letters  to  the  Spirit  of  Missions ^ 
which  are  reproduced  in  the  following  pages.  His  journey 
culminated  at  Fort  Miller  where  he  spent  ten  days,  officiated 
on  Sunday,  appointed  a  lay  reader,  and  left  in  the  conviction 
that  the  services  of  the  Church  would  be  continued.  Within 
a  few  months  of  the  Bishop's  visit,  however,  the  troops  were 
withdrawn  from  the  fort  and,  except  for  a  brief  period  during 
the  Civil  War,  it  was  never  occupied  again.  The  infant  town 
of  Millerton  maintained  its  miniature  but  active  existence 
for  several  years.  It  was  a  shanty  town  to  the  last,  distinguished 
from  others  only  by  a  substantial  court  house,  now  roofless, 
whose  granite  first  story  with  its  barred  windows  was  a  neces- 
sary adjunct  to  the  saloons  to  which  the  Bishop  calls  attention. 
One  learns  with  interest  that  the  mason  who  built  it  was  the 
first  to  enjoy  its  grim  hospitality.  When  the  Southern  Pacific 
Railroad  pushed  its  track  through  the  Valley,  the  Millerton- 
ians  with  one  consent  picked  up  their  lares  and  penates  and 
migrated  to  the  railroad,  twenty  miles  away,  there  to  plant 
another  infant  town,  now  grown  to  astonishing  proportions — 
6 


^S^I^-VA,^     JC^^^'^^^w."'^^*?^      ty^i'^^s<ZtAw»X^.^^_^^^ 


>?     ♦.! 


Fresno.  In  a  short  time  a  concrete  dam  will  be  thrown  across  A 

the  river  at  Millerton,  and  the  remains  of  town  and  fort  will  California 

be  buried  in  the  reservoir  of  a  great  irrigation  projedt.  Pilgrimage 

It  seemed  to  the  Convention  of  San  Joaquin  that  before 
the  landmarks  should  be  obliterated  some  commemoration  of 
Bishop  Kip's  first  missionary  journey  ought  to  be  made  on 
the  spot  where  he  officiated.  Accordingly,  at  the  annual  meet- 
ing of  Convocation  in  May,  1920,  a  committee  was  appointed, 
consisting  of  the  Very  Rev.  G.  R.  E.  Macdonald,  the  Rev. 
G.  G.  Hoisholt,  Mr.  L.  A.  Winchell,  Mrs.  L.  L.  Cory,  Mr. 
C .  H .  Miller  and  Mrs.  H .  C .  Tupper,  to  arrange  for  a  pilgrim- 
age commemorating  the  sixty-fifth  anniversary  of  the  coming 
of  the  Church  to  the  San  Joaquin  Valley.  The  efficient  work 
of  the  committee  was  a  labor  of  love.  Most  of  the  members 
were  the  children  of  pioneers  and  took  a  deep  personal  interest 
in  the  matter.  When  Fort  Miller  was  abandoned,  the  land 
passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Hart  family  of  Fresno,  and  for 
several  years  past  has  been  leased  as  a  cattle  ranch.  Because  of 
the  vandalism  of  irresponsible  parties,  the  lessee,  Mr.  C.  P. 
Roche,  had  been  obliged  to  close  his  gates  to  all  visitors.  But 
he  very  cordially  entered  into  the  spirit  of  this  occasion  and 
not  only  threw  open  his  grounds  but  his  own  house,  which 
was  the  identical  building  in  which  Bishop  Kip  officiated ; 
and  to  his  courtesy  much  of  the  success  of  the  pilgrimage 
was  due. 

On  the  morning  of  0(5tober  20th,  under  a  cloudless  sky, 
forty  or  more  cars  left  St.  James  Pro-Cathedral,  Fresno,  with 
guests  and  representatives  of  the  clergy  and  laity  from  all 
parts  of  the  diocese.  The  procession  followed  back  the  trail 
over  which  fifty  years  ago  the  pioneers  travelled  from  the 

9    ' 


ji  abandoned  town.  An  hour's  drive  brought  the  company  to  the 
California  western  opening  of  tiie  quadrangle  of  the  fort  where  the  cars 
Pilgrimage  were  parked  in  a  double  row,  much,  perhaps,  as  the  military 
wagons  were  parked  in  earlier  days.  The  clergy  vested,  and 
led  by  a  crucifer  and  followed  by  a  flag  bearer  who  preceded 
the  long  line  of  lay  people,  more  than  the  former  population 
of  town  and  fort  combined,  walked  in  silence  to  the  upper 
end  of  the  plaza,  where,  under  an  old  fig  tree,  facing  the  adobe 
in  which  the  First  Bishop  of  California  held  his  service,  a 
chaplain's  portable  altar,  used  in  the  late  war,  had  been  set 
up  on  a  pine  table.  In  the  open  air,  surrounded  by  a  reverent 
group  of  clergy  and  laity,  the  Bishop  of  San  Joaquin  celebrated 
the  Eucharist,  and  the  Second  Bishop  of  California  preached 
from  the  text  of  Bishop  Kip's  first  sermon  on  the  coast.  The 
congregation,  accompanied  by  no  instrument,  sang  heartily 
the  familiar  hymns:  "O  God  our  help  in  ages  past",  "Our 
father's  God  to  Thee",  "Jesus  shall  reign  where'er  the  sun", 
and  "For  all  the  saints  who  from  their  labors  rest."  About 
one  hundred  persons  received  the  sacred  elements  and  at  the 
close  of  the  service  the  procession  returned  to  the  cars  in  the 
same  order  as  at  the  beginning. 

A  little  later,  the  plaza  was  covered  by  groups  of  people 
seated  on  the  ground,  who  shared  with  each  other  the  lunch- 
eons they  had  brought  with  them,  while  an  energetic  com- 
mittee of  ladies  provided  coffee  for  all  who  came. 

The  day  was  concluded  with  a  tour  of  the  fort.  Mr.  L.  A. 
Winchell,  Vice-President  of  the  Fresno  Historical  Society, 
whose  boyhood  had  been  passed  at  the  fort,  led  the  way  from 
point  to  point,  and  interested  the  visitors  with  reminiscenses 
of  early  days, 

lO 


jammtm 
PROCESSION  OF  PILGRIMS 


CELEBRATION  OF  THE  EUCHARIST 


.-•^,;  :* :  yt  .•   **  ••  •  •  • 


^^^^ 

^^^^g^^^H 

M^ijl^^s^m^^fi^l^^ 

"THAT  ROCK  WAS  CHRIST"— i  COR.  10-4 

A  Digest  of  the  Sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  of  the  Pilgrimage 
to  Fort  Miller  by  Rt.  Reverend  William  Ford  Nichols,  D.D. 
Bishop  of  California. 

HIS  is  the  text  which  Bishop  Kip  seems  to  A 
have  chosen  to  point  the  purpose  of  his  work  California 
in  California.  It  was  the  text  of  his  first  Pilgrimage 
sermon,  preached  a  few  hours  after  landing 
from  the  steamer,  in  Trinity  Church,  San 
Francisco,  January  29,  1854.  The  sermon 
itself  is  probably  not  preserved.   But  in  his 
"Early  Days  of  My  Episcopate"  the  Bishop  quotes  from  it 
that  "Commencing  now  a  new  era  ...  it  is  fitting  that  these 
words  should  be  at  once  my  present  theme  and  the  type  of 
what  should  be  my  message  in  days  that  are  to  come".  We  may 
then  find  in  it  his  message  from  his  pioneering  episcopate. 

As  we  gather  here  on  this  pilgrimage,  so  happily  conceived 
by  your  Bishop  and  Convocation,  to  celebrate  the  sixty -fifth 
anniversary  of  the  first  trip  of  the  first  Bishop  of  California 
through  the  San  Joaquin  Valley,  an  almost  overwhelming 
rush  of  associations  with  such  an  event  bids  for  the  telling.  But 

13 


A  the  time,  especially  as  you  are  a  standing  rather  than  a  seated 
California  auditory,  dictates  rigid  compression.  Otherwise,  we  might 
Pilgrimage  dwell  upon  the  whole  of  his  itinerary  through  the  valley 
after  spending  Sunday,  Odober  7,  1855,  in  Los  Angeles,  as 
he  stopped  over  Sunday,  the  14th,  at  Fort  Tejon,  near  Teha- 
chapi,  and  came  here  to  Fort  Miller  on  Sunday  the  21st.  His 
chapter  about  it  in  his  "Early  Days"  has  all  the  absorption 
of  the  adventure  for  land  experience  of  California  that  Dana's 
**Two  Years  Before  the  Mast"  has  for  the  sea.  Indeed  a 
good  heading  for  it  might  be  "A  Month  Behind  Army  Mules" . 
There  is  much  of  interest  connected  with  the  six  members 
of  the  party,  including  a  son  of  John  C.  Calhoun  and  Major 
E.  A.  Townsend,  whose  protection  on  his  tour  of  inspection 
of  the  Forts  was  necessary  for  the  Bishop  in  those  days  of 
bandits  and  outlaws,  and  whose  hospitality  the  Bishop  accepted 
as  making  the  visitation  possible. 

The  customary  contrasts  between  then  and  now  both  in 
conditions  of  the  country  and  the  Church,  also  inevitably 
occur  to  us,  such  as  the  range  of  the  lone  sheep  herder  over 
barren  plains  then  with  the  happy  teeming  populations  and 
fields  of  "Wheat  and  barley,  vines  and  fig  trees,  pomegranate, 
oil,  olive  and  honey,"  now;  such  as  the  one  Bishop,  ten 
clergy,  and  less  than  five  hundred  communicants  then,  with 
six  Bishops,  two  hundred  and  fifty  clergy,  and  twenty-six 
thousand  communicants  in  the  State  now.  But  we  cannot  do 
more  than  glance  along  the  inviting  vistas  of  such  topics,  and 
will  only  try  to  note  and  fix  in  our  minds  for  wholesome 
appropriation,  as  far  as  we  can,  some  of  the  genius  of  Bishop 
Kip's  own  theory  of  service  as  outlined  in  the  text. 

And  for  that  working  theory  of  his,  it  will  suffice  if  without 

14 


/(L<'*>i^tf^^ ^ 


'  *  '*"»  \ 


ft     *  •       «.         ^      A  • 


entering  into  any  general  exposition  of  the  text,  we  simply  ^ 
interpret  its  symbolism  as  meaning  to  him  Christ,  the  succor  ^^^tjornta 
in  the  call  to  service.  The  rock  of  difficulty  was  made  to  the  ^iig^^f^^g^ 
Israelites  of  old  the  well  spring  of  opportunity.  The  rock  that 
depicted  the  very  desolation  of  the  desert  of  Zin  was  made  to 
gush  out  with  the  waters  for  the  parched  lips  of  the  people 
that  were  murmuring.  There  were  signally  taught  in  this  two 
great  principles  of  spiritual  force. 

First,  spiritual  force  moves  in  the  diredtion  of  the  greatest 
resistance.  This  is  a  feature  distind:  from  that  char  ad:  eristic 
of  natural  force  which  exhibits  it  as  moving  in  the  dired:ion 
of  least  resistance.  The  windings  of  a  river  bed  or  of  a  canon 
have  been  determined  by  some  antecedent  rivulet  that  turned 
aside  from  the  obstacle  of  a  twig  or  a  pebble  in  its  first  tiny 
course.  The  lace  work  around  the  circumference  of  a  hot 
spring  is  an  illustration  of  a  depositing  side  by  side  of  particles 
of  matter  that  the  gently  welling  water  circles  around  the 
rim  as  it  moves  where  there  is  the  least  resistance  of  previous 
deposit.  And  the  rock  of  resistance  swerves  the  tide  through 
a  Golden  Gate.  The  contrast  of  this  with  spiritual  power  is  a 
determining  of  real  characfler.  The  rock  of  challenge  in  the 
difficulties  and  obstacles  of  life  is  one  for  the  smiting  in  a  spirit 
of  moving  in  that  very  direction  of  greatest  resistance.  Any 
occupation,  and  any  demonstration  of  free  will  power  shows 
that.  The  one  who  always  tries  to  do  the  easiest  thing  is  bound 
to  fail.  ** The  slothful  man  saith  *Thereisa  lionin  the  way'." 
And  the  one  worth  his  salt  has  many  a  time  in  business  and 
inthe  home,  to  attack  the  problem  and  the  hard  proposi- 
tion with  all  his  might,  just  because  it  is  hard.  That  spirit 
explains  one  side  of  Bishop  Kip's  pioneering.  The  old  Latin 

17 


^    maxim  is  to  the  effect  that  "through  difficulties  we  reach  the 

California    stars". 

Pihrima^e  The  other  great  principle  of  spiritual  power  that  is  a  veri- 
table twin  principle  with  this  and  goes  with  it  in  actual 
experience  is  this:  When  spiritual  power  moves  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  greatest  resistance,  it  also  moves  in  the  dire<5tion 
of  its  greatest  assistance.  The  smiting  of  the  rock  by  Moses 
started  the  water  supply  for  thirsty  Israel.  The  rock  stroke  of 
faith  brought  the  very  relief  stream  for  the  famished.  Face 
hardship  and  free  help.  Strike  the  Sierras  and  gurgling  water- 
ways transform  the  San  Joaquin  Valley  from  a  desert  to  an 
Eden.  "Help  yourself,  and  God  will  help  you."  That  con- 
sciousness of  the  "Lo  I  am  with  you"  of  his  Master,  in  a 
Presence  of  greatest  help  just  in  the  time  of  greatest  test  of 
dauntlessness,  explains  another  side  of  Bishop  Kip's  pioneer- 
ing. Much  we  might  say  of  the  scholar  and  apologist  for  the 
Church  in  his  many  and  much  read  writings,  much  of  his 
fine  gentleness  with  his  noble  bearing,  much  of  notable  events 
in  which  he  shared  in  his  episcopate  of  two  score  years.  But 
his  example  for  us  as  we  gather  under  this  glad  sunshine  today 
for  our  Eucharist  and  recall  his  visit  here  in  the  days  of  small 
things  and  big  obstacles,  seems  winningly  to  contribute 
to  our  own  spheres  a  most  grateful  and  valuable  refledtion. 
Individually  and  collectively,  laymen  and  clergymen,  men 
and  women  in  church  and  home  and  state,  in  which  there 
are  many  tendencies  to  down-grade,  easy  going  ways,  it  does 
give  us  a  good  deal  to  think  of  on  the  lines  of  those  twin 
principles  of  spiritual  power.  First,  that  it  moves  in  the 
direction  of  greatest  resistance,  and  second,  that  it  at  the  same 
time  moves  in  the  dirediion  of  greatest  assistance.  Can  we  not 

i8 


go  away  from  this  memorable  scene  to  attack  with  fresh  inspir-    ^ 

ation  just  the  cares  and  burdens  that  each  heart  knows  as  its    ^^^{fornta 

own?  Could  there  be  a  happier  answer  to  that  query  which     "ilgrtmage 

Bishop  Kip  put  to  us  as  "Children  of  the  next  generation?" 

He  visualized  the  California  Churchmen  that  were  to  come 

and  asks,  "When  they  are  worshipping  in  splendid  buildings 

and  members  of  powerful  parishes,  how  will  they  regard  our 

early  struggles?" 

In  speaking  heartiest  congratulations  for  myself  and  I  am 
sure  for  all  our  Church  people  in  California,  who  have  inher- 
ited the  fruit  of  the  labors  of  the  first  Bishop  of  California,  as 
I  do  my  dear  Bishop,  to  you  and  your  clergy  and  laity,  on  this 
days'  celebration,  may  we  not  call  it  our  memorable  Fort 
Miller  pilgrimage?  And  as  was  the  wont  of  pilgrims  of  old  to 
choose  some  symbol  as  a  badge,  like  the  scallop  shell  or  the 
Jerusalem  cross,  may  we  not  wear  on  our  hearts  the  image  of 
a  Rock,  chiselled  with  the  name  Christ;  of  a  smiting  the  rock; 
of  a  gushing  stream;  all  to  betoken  our  fresh  devotion  in  using 
for  character  and  service  those  precious  principles  of  the 
pioneer  text, 

**That  Rock  was  Christ.'' 


19 


I.     LOS  ANGELES 


A 

California 

Pilgrimage 


The  following  letters  of  Bishop  Kip,  containing  the  story  of  his 
journey  through  the  San  Joaquin  Valley  in  OBober,  l8^^, 
appeared  serially  in  **The  Spirit  of  Missions"  in  February, 
March  and  April,  l8^6.  They  have  never  been  published  in 
any  other  form  and  are  reprinted  here  by  courtesy  of  *^The 
Spirit  of  Missions.'* 

OR  MORE  than  a  year  I  had  been  attempting 
to  visit  the  southern  part  of  the  State,  but 
was  never  able  to  do  so.  The  unsettled  state 
of  the  country,  infested  by  the  worst  class 
of  whites  and  Mexicans,  often  robbing  in 
large  parties,  rendered  it  unsafe  to  travel  ex- 
cept with  a  party  thoroughly  armed.  Such 


a  party  I  could  not  find  until  the  present  time,  when  Major 
Townsend,  U.  S.  A.,  being  ordered  to  inspect  Forts  Tejon 
and  Miller,  had  to  pass  through  the  country,  and  I  availed 
myself  of  the  opportunity.  Some  other  friends  having  offered 
to  join  us,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  the  country,  we  had  a 
sufficient  number  for  security.  Besides  Major  T.,  my  youngest 
son  and  myself,  the  party  consisted  of  Hon.  Edward  Stanley 
20 


(late  of  N.  C.,),  Mr.  Jas.  E.  Calhoun  (late  of  S.  C.,),  and  Mr.  ^ 

J.  T.  Smith  of  San  Francisco.  California 

My  objects  were,  to  spend  a  Sunday  at  Los  Angeles,  where  PUg-rimaze 
the  services  of  the  Church  had  never  been  performed;  another 
Sunday  at  Fort  Tejon,  where  we  have  a  lay-reader;  another 
at  Fort  Miller,  where  there  has  never  been  a  service;  and, 
generally,  to  see  what  is  the  character  of  the  southern  half 
of  the  State  with  reference  to  future  prosped:s  of  the  Church. 

I  propose,  therefore,  in  these  three  successive  articles,  to 
give  an  account  of  our  expedition  through  this  section  of  the 
country.  The  first  will  be  our  visit  to  Los  Angeles;  the  second, 
our  journey  to  Fort  Tejon,  and  Sunday  at  that  place;  and  the 
third,  our  travel  over  the  plains  to  Fort  Miller,  and  thence 
home  to  San  Francisco.  In  doing  this,  I  shall  not  confine 
myself  to  Church  matters,  but  give  such  other  statements  with 
regard  to  the  inhabitants  and  the  physical  features  of  the 
country,  as  will  be  likely  to  convey  information  desired  by 
the  many  readers  of  this  periodical. 

OBoberi,  l8^^. 

At  4  p.m.,  we  were  on  board  the  steamer  Republic  for  San 
Diego.  The  last  time  the  captain  and  I  voyaged  together,  we 
were  wrecked  in  the  Golden  Gate,  and  I  found,  therefore, 
that  he  looked  rather  suspiciously  at  me.  The  fog  was  rolling 
in  when  we  sailed,  and  no  sooner  had  we  passed  the  Heads, 
and  struck  the  swell  of  the  ocean,  than  we  plunged  into  a 
dense  bank,  in  which  it  was  impossible  to  see  for  twenty  feet. 
The  captain  says,  he  never  went  out  in  so  thick  a  fog.  At 
intervals,  all  night,  the  bell  was  kept  ringing,  and  about  three 
in  the  morning  we  were,  as  the  captain  supposed,  off  Mon- 
terey. We  therefore  came  to,  and  as  the  sea  was  heavy,  we 

21 


A    were  left  rolling  in  its  trough  for  the  night.  At  day-break  the 
California    fog  still  continued,  and  we  kept  slowly  drawing  in  to  land 
Pilgrimage    until  about  ten  o'clock,  when  it  lifted  and  we  saw  the  coast, 
so  that  we  could  enter  the  harbor. 

We  anchored  as  usual  in  the  bay,  when  the  boats  came  off 
and  took  us  to  shore.  Monterey  is  unchanged  since  I  had 
service  here  last  year,  in  August.  Everything  is  as  quiet  and 
beautiful  as  ever — a  perfect  Spanish  town — and  no  apparent 
accession  to  the  American  population.  I  spent  part  of  the  time 
we  were  here  in  visiting  the  few  churchmen.  The  last  half 
hour  on  shore  was  passed  with  the  Hon.  Mr.  Wall,  collector 
of  the  port.  Three  weeks  afterwards  he  was  found  a  few  miles 
from  Monterey  dead  on  the  road,  pierced  with  seven  balls, 
and  the  gentleman  with  him  also  dead,  a  short  distance  off. 
They  had  been  attacked  by  a  party  of  five  mounted  Mexicans, 
who  afterwards  effected  their  escape.  Subsequently,  in  attempt- 
ing to  capture  them,  Mr.  Layton,  another  of  our  few  church- 
men here,  was  killed,  with  two  others.  I  mention  this  to  show 
the  necessity  there  was  for  my  being  with  an  armed  party  in 
travelling  in  this  southern  country.  At  3  p.  m.,  we  sailed,  but 
the  sea  proved  to  be  rough,  and  most  of  us  were  soon  invisible. 
The  rest  of  the  day,  and  through  the  night,  we  were  pitching 
about  in  that  dreamy,  uncomfortable  state  of  being,  afraid  to 
move  for  fear  of  consequences. 

Wednesday,  OB,  J. 
The  sea  smoother,  but  the  fog  still  dense.  In  the  morning 
the  captain  found  he  had  run  too  close  in  shore,  and  was  near 
the  spot  where,  last  year,  the  unfortunate  Yankee  Blade  was 
lost  with  so  great  destruction  of  life.  During  the  morning  the 
fog  cleared  off,  and  we  got  on  our  true  course.  At  i  p.  m.  we 
22 


anchored  opposite  to  Santa  Barbara.  We  went  ashore  in  the   A 
steamer's  boat,  at  most  times  a  difficult  business  on  account  of   California 
the  heavy  surf.  As  there  is  no  wharf,  the  boat  has  to  be  run  up    Pilgrimage 
on  shore,  while  the  passengers  watch  their  chance  and  jump 
before  the  wave  returns. 

Santa  Barbara  has  entirely  its  old  California  population. 
There  seem  to  be  hardly  any  Americans  settled  there.  Every- 
thing, therefore,  is  primitive  and  quiet.  Their  houses  are  all 
open  as  if  they  lived  out  of  doors,  and  their  agricultural  imple- 
ments, ploughs  and  wagons,  scattered  about,  are  of  the  same 
clumsy  pattern  their  fathers  used  in  Mexico  a  century  ago. 
The  town  is  about  half  a  mile  from  the  bay,  and  may  contain 
about  twelve  hundred  inhabitants. 

A  mile  and  a  halfback,  on  the  rising  ground,  at  the  base  of 
the  hills,  stands  the  old  Mission  of  Santa  Barbara.  We  walked 
out  to  it  and  found  the  same  evidences  of  decay  and  delapida- 
tion  which  characterize  all  the  California  Missions.  There  is, 
as  usual,  an  extensive  range  of  buildings,  once  occupied  by  the 
priest,  and  terminated  at  one  end  by  the  large  Church.  Around 
were  the  remains  of  their  vineyards  and  gardens  with  a  few 
slight  houses,  about  which  some  Indians  were  lounging  in  the 
sun,  the  relics  of  their  once  numerous  bands  of  converts. 

As  we  found  there  was  a  solitary  priest  still  residing  here 
and  keeping  up  the  services  of  the  Church,  we  knocked  at  his 
door  and  brought  him  out  —  an  old  man  in  the  coarse  gray 
Franciscan  dress.  Calling  an  Indian  boy,  he  sent  him  to  unlock 
the  church  for  us.  It  was  like  all  the  other  Mission  churches, 
with  little  to  recommend  it  but  its  size,  and  having,  at  the 
entrance,  the  usual  horrible  pictures  of  Purgatory  and  Paradise. 
In  the  front  of  the  building  was  a  circular  reservoir  and  a  stone 

23 


^  fountain,  now  dry,  with  considerable  carving  about  it.  We 
Laltjornia  found  there  was  a  succession  of  these  reservoirs  on  the  moun- 
rtlgrimage  ^^^^  gj^j^^  ^2.q\\  one  of  a  little  higher  plane  than  the  others,  and 
connected  by  canals.  In  this  way  water  was  brought  fourteen 
miles  from  its  source  in  the  mountains.  Now,  however,  most 
of  them  are  dry,  their  stone  ornaments  are  broken  in  pieces, 
and  the  surrounding  country,  which  the  old  Padres  thus  irri- 
gated and  made  like  a  garden,  is  fast  relapsing  into  former 
wildness.  It  is  a  lovely  spot,  however,  commanding  a  wide 
view  of  the  country  and  bay,  and  was  selected  with  the  usual 
good  taste  of  the  Friars. 

We  walked  back  again  to  the  shore,  and  at  7  p.  m.,  were 
again  under  way. 

Thursday^  OB.  ^. 

About  7  a.m.  we  anchored  opposite  San  Pedro  (420  miles 
Irom  San  Francisco)  and  the  end  of  our  voyage.  At  the  edge 
of  the  water  is  a  high  bank,  and  from  this  the  plain  extends 
far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  There  are  three  adobe  houses  on  the 
bank,  and  everything  looks  just  as  it  did  when  Dana  described 
it  in  his  "Two  Years  Before  The  Mast,"  more  than  20  years 
ago.  We  landed  in  the  steamer's  boats,  and  after  a  breakfast  at 
one  of  the  houses,  a  wagon  was  produced,  to  which  four  half- 
broken  California  horses  were  harnessed.  The  men  hung  on 
to  their  heads  till  the  signal  for  starting  was  given,  when 
they  released  them,  and  away  they  dashed  at  full  gallop, 
our  driver  occasionally  looking  in  to  ask  us  **on  which  side 
we  wished  to  fall  when  we  upset."  This  seemed  to  be  his 
standing  joke,  and  one  which  I  thought  it  not  improbable 
might  be  realized. 

The  plains  were  covered  with  thousands  of  cattle  and  horses, 
24 


quite  reminding  us  of  old  California  times.  In  the  25  miles  of  A 
our  journey,  there  were  but  two  or  three  shanties,  erected  by  California 
squatters, who  were  raising  cattle,  and  not  a  fence  or  enclosure.   Pilgrimage 
except  the  corrals,  about  them.  We  reached  Los  Angeles  in 
less  than  two  hours  and  a  half,  having  changed  horses  once  on 
the  way.   As  we  approached  the  town  there  was  a  marked 
change  from  the  treeless  sterility  of  the  plains.  We  found  our- 
selves winding  through  the  midst  of  vineyards  and  gardens, 
and  on  all  sides  saw  the  workmen  engaged  in  the  manufacSture 
of  wine. 

Friday,  OB.  5. 
Los  Angeles  has  all  the  characft eristics  of  an  old  Spanish 
town.  It  contains  about  5,000  inhabitants,  2,000  of  whom 
may  be  Americans  or  English.  The  houses  are  almost  invari- 
ably one  story  high — a  style  of  building  which  an  occasional 
earthquake  has  rendered  advisable.  All  around  it  is  a  perfect 
garden,  luxuriant  with  every  kind  of  fruit.  We  visited  one  vine- 
yard, which,  besides  a  profusion  of  other  fruits,  contained 
50,000  vines  of  a  large  blue  grape.  Part  of  these  grapes  are 
each  week  sent  to  San  Francisco  by  the  return  steamer  from 
San  Diego,  and  part  are  manufactured  into  wine. 

Saturday,  OB.  6. 
We  availed  ourselves  of  this  day  to  see  something  of  the 
surrounding  country.  We  drove  out  about  a  dozen  miles  to  the 
San  Gabriel  Mission.  It  stands  in  a  most  lovely  country,  but 
like  all  the  others  I  have  visited,  is  now  in  a  state  of  decay. 
The  single  priest  remaining  here — a  Frenchman,  speaking  no 
English — took  us  into  the  Sacristy  and  showed  us  the  rich 
dresses,  heavy  with  gold  embroidery — the  remnant  of  their 

25 


A  former  glory,  and  probably  brought  originally  from  Spain.  We 
California  entered  the  large  Church  once  filled  with  their  Indian  con- 
Pilgrimage  verts,  but  now  of  a  size  entirely  useless.  Half  a  dozen  children 
were  on  their  knees  before  the  chancel,  who  went  on  with 
their  devotions  without  seeming  to  notice  our  party.  The 
eldest  was  reading  aloud  from  some  devotional  book,  while 
the  others  at  intervals  responded.  The  thick  stone  walls  of  the 
Church  were  hung  with  the  usual  wretched  pictures.  Around 
the  Mission  is  a  country  which,  by  the  richness  of  its  soil, 
could  produce  anything.  It  is  well  irrigated  by  little  streams 
from  the  mountains,  led  through  the  fields  by  the  labour  of 
the  old  Padres.  The  only  settlers,  however,  are  the  lowest  class 
of  Spanish  Californians  or  Indians,  whose  little  huts  are  scat- 
tered about,  among  which  the  children  were  running  around 
in  a  perfect  state  of  nudity.  In  the  hands  of  our  Eastern  farm- 
ers, this  country,  with  its  perpetual  summer,  would  become  a 
per  fed:  Eden. 

About  a  mile  from  the  Mission  is  a  rich  tract  of  wooded 
country,  called  the  Monte,  and  celebrated  for  the  luxuriance 
of  its  crops.  Corn  grows  here  to  a  height  which  would  seem 
fabulous  at  the  east.  It  is  peopled  by  a  wild  class  of  settlers 
from  our  Western  States,  who  have  no  religious  instrudion 
but  what  is  derived  from  the  excitement  of  an  occasional 
Methodist  camp-meeting.  Besides  this  **no  man  careth  for 
their  souls." 

On  our  way  home  we  stopped  at  the  vineyard  of  a  gentle- 
man, who  is  one  of  those  most  interested,  in  Los  Angeles,  in 
the  establishment  of  the  Church,  and  I  describe  it  to  show 
what  Providence  has  done  for  this  country.  It  is  about  five 
miles  from  town,  the  house  standing  on  a  rising  ground,  from 
26 


the  front  of  which  there  is  a  view  of  many  miles  of  rich  land-  A 

scape,  much  of  it  dotted  with  oak  trees.  His  men  were  all  busy  California 

in  the  manufad:ure  of  wine,  and  while  some  of  them  were  Pilgrimage 

bringing  in  the  rich  grapes  in  baskets,  others,  standing  in  the 

vats  with  their  naked  feet,  were  literally  "treading  the  wine 

press."  The  proprietor  receives  $8,000  a  year  from  the  sale  of 

his  wine  alone. 

In  his  vineyard,  besides  the  grapes,  we  found  a  colledtion  of 
fruit  which  I  have  never  seen  equalled  in  any  part  of  the  world. 
There  were  melons  of  all  kinds,  figs,  just  bursting,  delicious 
peaches,  pomegranates,  tuners  (the  cactus  fruit), pears,  Madeira 
nuts,  etc.,  all  were  about  us.  Strawberries  are  raised  here 
through  the  whole  year. 

Sunday y  OB.  y. 

Until  within  the  last  six  months,  there  had  been  no  religious 
service  of  any  kind  in  Los  Angeles,  except  those  of  the  old 
Romish  Church.  As  the  preaching  there  was  in  Spanish,  the 
Americans  never  went  to  it,  and  were  without  anything  to 
mark  the  coming  of  Sunday.  At  that  time  the  Presbyterians 
sent  a  minister  here  who  officiated  in  one  of  the  public  court- 
rooms, while  the  Methodists  erected  a  small  building,  and 
commenced  their  services.  The  latter  place  had  been  offered 
to  us  for  our  service  this  day. 

We  had  service  morning  and  evening  —  the  first  time  our 
solemn  Liturgy  was  ever  heard  in  this  section  of  the  country. 
At  the  morning  service  there  were  about  8  o  present,  and  a  much 
larger  number  in  the  evening.  The  next  day  just  before  leaving 
the  place,  I  baptized  the  four  children  of  a  gentleman,  whose 
family,  at  the  east,  had  been  attached  to  our  Church.  I  found 
several  such  families  in  this  place,  whom  I  sought  out  and 

27 


A  visited.  They  are  literally  **  Christ's  sheep  dispersed  abroad  in 
California  this  naughty  world."  Before  leaving,  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
Pilgrimage  conferring  w^ith  a  number  of  the  inhabitants.  They  told  me, 
the  persons  present  had  been  much  impressed  with  the  dignity 
and  solemnity  of  our  service  —  that  neither  Presbyterianism 
or  Methodism  could  produce  any  influence  on  this  popu- 
lation—  but  they  had  no  doubt  the  Church  could  be  estab- 
lished under  very  favorable  circumstances.  They  wanted 
something  that  did  not  preach  Nebraska  or  Kansas,  slavery 
or  anti-slavery,  and  was  not  identified  with  any  of  the  isms 
of  the  day. 

I  have  no  doubt  but  that  they  are  right,  and  that  the  system 
of  the  Church  is  the  only  thing  which  can  produce  permanent 
impressions.  They  professed  to  be  ready  to  give  a  support  to 
a  clergyman,  as  soon  as  the  right  kind  of  a  man  could  be  sent. 
It  needs  a  man,  however,  of  zeal  and  energy,  considerable 
pulpit  talents  and  knowledge  of  the  world.  Our  Church  people 
at  the  east,  residing  all  their  lives  in  a  settled  state  of  society, 
have  no  idea  of  the  difficulty  of  establishing  a  congregation 
from  the  conflicting  elements  of  a  population  who  have  not 
heard  the  Gospel  preached  for  years,  who  are  living  under 
no  religious  restraints,  and  among  whom  the  religious 
element  is  yet  to  be  created.  It  is  a  work  of  faith,  of  time, 
and  patience. 

Yet  how  many  there  are  of  our  energetic  young  men  to 
whom  this  would  present  a  noble  field!  Where  they  would 
be  the  first  heralds  of  the  Church,  and,  instead  of  wearing  out 
their  lives  in  a  severe  and  changing  climate,  they  might  make 
their  home  in  one  of  the  healthiest  places  in  the  world,  where 
they  would  enjoy  the  blessings  of  a  perpetual  summer.  It  is 
28 


for  this  reason,  perhaps,  that  the  early  Spaniards  named  it  the  A 

city  of  Los  Angeles  (the  city  of  the  Angels);  and  I  certainly  California 

have  never  seen  a  country  which  more  fully  realizes  Bishop  Pilgrimage 
Heber's  description  — 

.  .   .    ^^Every  prospeB  pleases. 
And  only  man  is  vile'' 


29 


II.   FORT  TEJON 


A 

California 

Pilgrimage 


^Monday,  OB,  8. 
IE  LEFT  Los  Angeles  for  Fort  Tejon  (about 
loo  miles  distant),  at  1 1  o'clock.  Our  ve- 
hicle was  a  large  heavy  wagon,  for  no  other 
is  adapted  to  the  mountain  passes  through 
which  our  road  leads.  It  was  drawn  by  four 
mules,  and  we  had  a  driver  well  acquainted 
with  the  country. 


Our  driver  was  also  well  armed,  and  the  gentlemen  with 
me  had  their  rifles  and  revolvers.  It  may  seem  strange  to  an 
eastern  reader  to  hear  of  a  visitation  being  made  with  such 
accompaniments,  but  here  there  is  no  help  for  it.  The  country 
through  which  we  are  to  pass — scarcely  settled — is  infested 
with  California  and  Mexican  outlaws,  whose  trade  is  robbery, 
and  who  will  often  down  a  traveler  for  the  sake  of  the  horse 
on  which  he  is  mounted.  Our  friends  in  Los  Angeles  warned 
us,  when  we  got  out  to  walk,  as  we  should  often  be  obliged 
to  do,  not  to  straggle  off,  but  to  keep  together.  Sometimes 
these  banditti  attack  in  groups,  as  in  the  murder  of  Mr.  Wall 
which  I  mentioned  in  my  last  number.  At  other  times  a  single 
Mexican  dashes  on  horseback  by  the  unsuspecting  traveler. 

30 


As  he  passes  within  20  feet,  suddenly  the  lariat,  coiled  up  at  A 

his  saddle  bow,  is  whirled  round  his  head,  and  ere  the  traveler  California 

can  put  himself  on  his  defense,  its  circle  descends  with  unerring  Pilgrimage 

precision,  and  he  is  hurled,  lifeless,  from  his  horse.  Then,  too, 

in  camping  out  at  night,  our  rest  may  be  invaded  by  a  grizzly 

bear,  as  they  abound  on  these  mountains.  They  often  exceed 

1,600  pounds  in  weight,  and  have  such  tenacity  of  life  that 

an  encounter  with  them  is  more  dangerous  than  with  an 

African  lion. 

We  had  hardly  got  out  on  the  plains,  a  couple  of  miles  from 
Los  Angeles,  when,  in  descending  a  gulch,  part  of  the  harness 
broke,  the  mules  whirled  around,  and  we  were  only  saved 
from  an  overturn  by  the  snapping  off  of  the  pole.  Nothing 
could  be  done  but  for  our  driver  to  take  a  couple  of  mules, 
return  to  town,  and  have  a  new  one  made.  So  there  we  were 
left  for  some  hours  with  the  wagon  and  other  mules.  I  read 
or  looked  out  over  the  desolate  plains,  while  my  companions 
practiced  rifle  shooting.  About  three  in  the  afternoon  our 
driver  returned,  and  we  made  a  new  set-off.  We  shortly  passed 
through  a  chain  of  hills,  and  then  again  over  the  plains  for 
seventeen  miles.  Not  a  living  objed:  was  seen  for  hours,  till 
towards  evening,  the  coyote  wolves  came  out,  and  we  saw 
them  loping  along  with  their  long  gallop,  often  numbers  in 
a  troop.  Night  closed,  and  we  drove  on  some  time  in  darkness, 
till  the  appearance  of  a  single  light,  a  long  distance  ahead, 
showed  that  we  were  approaching  some  habitation.  After  a 
time  we  reached  some  enclosures — the  first  we  had  seen  since 
leaving  Los  Angeles  —  and  found  ourselves  at  the  old  Mission 
of  San  Fernando.  The  buildings  are  the  most  massive  I  have 
seen.  Along  the  whole  front  runs  a  corridor,  which  must  be 

31 


A  three  hundred  feet  in  length,  supported  by  heavy  square  stone 
California  pillars.  Some  of  the  apartments  are  forty  feet  long,  with  thick 
Pilgrimage  stone  walls  and  stone  floors,  reminding  me  of  old  castellated 
mansions  iii  the  south  of  Europe.  We  had  letters  to  Don 
Andreas  Pico,  the  present  owner  of  the  mission,  and  as  he  was 
absent,  presented  them  to  his  Major-Domo.  Two  or  three 
other  travellers  arrived  late  at  night  from  different  diredtions. 
One  of  them — a  specimen  of  the  varied  characters  to  be  met 
with  here — was  a  Scotchman,  a  graduate  of  the  University 
of  Edinburgh,  who  had  been  mining  for  some  years  in  South 
America,  and  was  now  seeking  his  fortune  in  this  new  land. 
He  arrived  almost  exhausted,  having  had  no  food  or  water  for 
twenty-four  hours.  His  horse  had  given  out  in  the  mountains, 
and  pursuing  his  way  on  foot,  he  suddenly  saw  a  huge  grizzly 
in  the  path  before  him.  Afraid  to  fire  at  him,  he  unslung  his 
tin  prosped:ing  pan,  and  drawing  his  ramrod,  commenced  a 
clatter  on  the  pan,  which  soon  drove  the  grizzly  off. 

We  had  a  regular  Spanish  supper,  olla  podrida  (beef  with 
red  peppers  and  onions),  frijolas  and  tortelas,  with  native  wine. 
At  night  we  were  all  put  in  a  room  40  feet  long,  with  one  bed 
in  the  corner.  This,  two  of  the  party  occupied,  and  the  rest 
wrapped  themselves  in  their  blankets  on  the  stone  floor. 

Tuesday,  OB,  g. 
We  were  up  at  dawn,  expecting  to  be  off  early,  but  were 
detained  an  hour  for  breakfast.  Our  morning  ablutions  were 
performed  at  a  little  stream  in  front  of  the  door,  which  the 
old  padres  had  led  there  to  irrigate  the  gardens.  We  availed 
ourselves  of  this  delay  to  insped:  the  buildings.  The  church  is 
like  all  other  Mission  churches,  with  one  peculiarity.   One 

32 


wall  forms  one  side  of  a  quadrangle,  the  other  three  sides  of  A 
which  are  buildings  about  ten  feet  high.  This  space  was  for-  California 
merly  used  for  bull-fights,  and  the  spectators  were  accommo-  Pilgrimage 
dated  on  the  roofs  of  these  buildings.   There  are  two  very 
extensive  vineyards,  abounding  also  with  other  kinds  of  fruit. 
The  grapes  here  are  said  to  be  of  a  finer  flavour  than  those  of 
Los  Angeles.  The  workmen  at  the  mills  were  making  wine 
at  the  time. 

We  had  a  Spanish  breakfast  exadly  similar  to  our  supper 
the  night  before.  Upon  offering  to  pay  the  Major  Domo,  he 
refused  to  receive  anything.  We  then  urged  him  to  take  a 
present  for  himself,  but  he  said,  "No,  when  strangers  come 
along,  if  they  make  me  a  present,  I  receive  it,  but  not  from 
the  friends  of  Don  Andreas."  And  all  this  was  announced  with 
the  highest  Castilian  manner. 

It  was  seven  o'clock  before  we  left  the  Mission,  and  after 
proceeding  a  few  miles,  reached  the  San  Fernando  Pass,  where 
the  road  had  been  cut  through  a  deep  defile  in  the  mountains. 
Here  we  had  to  get  out  and  walk,  and  the  scenery  was  the 
wildest  I  have  seen  since  I  crossed  the  Alps.  How  our  heavy 
wagon  was  to  get  over  was  a  marvel  to  us.  At  one  place  was  a 
ledge  of  rocks  almost  perpendicular,  about  four  feet  high, 
down  which  it  plunged,  as  if  it  would  turn  over  and  crush  the 
mules,  while  we  involuntarily  held  our  breath  as  we  looked 
on.  In  the  pass,  a  couple  of  Indians  on  horseback  met  us  as  we 
were  walking,  and  were  loud  in  their  demands  for  money,  till 
some  one  of  the  gentlemen  allowed  their  arms  to  be  seen, 
when  their  tone  was  moderated  considerably.  Had  my  com- 
panions been  unarmed,  it  was  evident  they  would  have  had 
no  scruples  about  enforcing  their  wishes. 

33 


A  After  passing  the  hills  our  course  for  twenty-two  miles  was 
California  over  a  level  plain,  at  the  termination  of  which  we  entered. 
Pilgrimage  what  was  stated  to  be  the  most  dangerous  part  of  our  journey 
a  canon,  or  winding  defile  through  the  mountains,  about 
seventeen  miles  long.  It  is  a  narrow  pass,  hemmed  in  on  both 
sides  by  the  high  mountains,  often  allowing  scarcely  room  for 
the  wagon  to  pass.  A  small  stream  flows  through  it,  which  is 
crossed  by  the  road  more  than  eighty  times  during  the  seven- 
teen miles.  In  addition  to  its  being  the  resort  of  grizzlies,  its 
fastnesses  are  the  hiding-places  of  the  American  or  Mexican 
desperadoes  who  are  such  a  scourge  to  this  part  of  the  country. 

We  stopped  just  at  its  entrance,  near  the  only  house  there 
is  for  twenty  miles  in  any  diredtion,  to  take  lunch  and  rest 
our  mules.  A  short  time  before,  this  house  had  become  so 
notorious  a  resort  for  robbers,  that  the  people  from  Los  Angeles 
captured  its  inmates — two  Americans  and  four  Mexicans — 
and  hung  them  by  lynch  law.  As  the  spring  at  which  we  stopped 
was  only  a  hundred  yards  distant,  we  noticed  that  the  house 
had  a  new  set  of  occupants,  but  did  not  learn  whether  its 
character  had  improved. 

It  was  about  noon  that  we  entered  the  defile,  the  branches 
of  trees  often  on  both  sides  sweeping  against  our  wagon,  and 
long  before  sunset  involving  us  in  twilight.  Many  parts  of  it 
reminded  me  of  our  ride  through  the  mountains  on  the  Isth- 
mus, from  Crucis  to  Panama.  Through  the  whole  day  we  saw 
no  human  being,  and  did  not  wish  to,  as  they  probably  would 
not  be  of  the  class  we  would  like  to  meet.  So  on  our  mules 
dragged  the  heavy  wagon,  over  the  rocks  and  through  the 
streams,  while  most  of  the  way  we  walked. 

We  had  intended  to  extricate  ourselves  from  the  canon 

34 


before  daylight  ended,  so  as  to  encamp  out  on  the  open  plain  A 
beyond.  But  when  night  came,  we  were  still  five  miles  from  California 
the  end,  our  mules  tired  out  and  it  rapidly  becoming  too  dark  Pilgrimage 
to  thread  our  way  through  the  ravines.  We,  therefore,  turned 
aside  to  a  level  spot  which  we  reached,  with  the  little  stream 
on  one  side  and  high  rocks  behind  us.  A  fallen  tree  furnished 
an  abundance  of  wood  for  our  fire,  which  was  supplied  with 
large  logs  to  last  through  the  night.  Here  our  basket  of  pro- 
visions was  opened,  tea  boiled,  and  reclining  about  the  fire 
we  had  our  evening  meal.  Then  came  the  preparations  for 
the  night.  Two  of  the  party  slept  in  the  wagon,  while  the 
rest  lay  around  the  fire  wrapped  in  their  blankets.  Rifles  were 
fresh  capped,  revolvers  examined,  and  each  slept  with  his 
arms  within  reach.  No  regular  watch  was  kept,  as  some  one 
was  up  every  hour  to  replenish  the  fire,  and  the  mules  pick- 
eted around  would  prove  the  best  sentinels  to  give  notice  of 
the  approach  of  men  or  wild  beasts. 

Wednesday y  OB.  10. 

We  were  up  before  daybreak,  and  on  our  way  as  soon  as  it 
was  light  enough  to  see  the  path.  We  were  obliged  to  walk 
the  greater  part  of  the  five  miles  through  the  ravine.  At  last 
we  emerged  into  an  open  valley,  covered  here  and  there  with 
oaks.  In  this  we  found  a  company  of  Californians  camping 
with  several  hundred  cattle,  which  were  scattered  over  several 
miles  and  which  they  were  driving  to  the  upper  country  to  sell. 

Where  the  valley  expands  into  the  wide  plains,  Elizabeth 
Lake  was  pointed  out  to  us  at  a  distance.  It  is  about  half  a 
mile  long,  and  lay  glittering  in  the  sunlight,  exactly  like 
snow  of  the  most  dazzling  whiteness.  On  coming  near  we 
found  it  was  without  a  drop  of  water,  but  filled  with  a  deposit 

35 


A  of  saleratus.   Not  far  off  was  the  canvas  hut  of  a  settler,  the 
California  only  house  we  were  to  pass  in  our  day's  journey,  near  which 
Pilgrimage  lay  the  remains  of  three  bears  he  had  lassoed  and  killed. 

The  plains  here  are  about  fifteen  miles  in  width.  As  the 
day  advanced  it  became  intensely  hot ;  yet  we  were  obliged  to 
push  on  until  we  could  reach  some  water  to  prepare  our  break- 
fast and  refresh  our  mules.  About  half  past  lo  o'clock,  after 
traveling  five  hours,  we  reached  a  little  spring,  at  which  we 
were  obliged  to  stop,  as  there  is  no  water  for  the  next  fourteen 
miles.  By  damming  it  up  we  obtained  enough  for  our  wants. 
There  was,  however,  no  shade  and  no  tree  within  miles  of  us. 
We  all  scattered,  therefore,  about  the  plain  to  pick  up  sticks, 
and  the  wagon  was  arranged  so  as  to  get  as  much  shade  as  pos- 
sible on  one  side  of  it.  Into  this  we  crowded,  and  our  fire  was 
built  to  prepare  for  breakfast.  Some  of  our  party  were  almost 
exhausted,  but  we  found  that  hot  tea,  equally  with  sleep, 
merited  the  praise  of  being 

** tired  nature' s  sweet  restorer.'* 

It  was  a  long  hot  drive  all  day  over  the  plains.  There  was  no 
timber,  except  in  one  place,  for  a  couple  of  miles;  the  plain 
was  covered  with  a  kind  of  palm.  We  saw  numerous  bands  of 
antelopes,  but,  frightened  by  our  wagon,  they  kept  at  a  dis- 
tance. There  was  a  dreary  uniformity  in  our  prospedt — the  same 
flat,  scorched  prairie.  In  one  place  we  descended  for  a  dozen 
feet,  and  passed  for  half  a  mile  over  the  dry  sandy  bed  of  what 
was  once  a  wide  river.  We  saw  no  one,  except  a  train  of  four  or 
five  wagons  containing  a  party  of  Mormons  going  from  Salt 
Lake  to  their  settlement  of  San  Bernardino,  in  the  southern 
part  of  the  state. 

36 


In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  reached  the  only  water  to  A 
be  found  for  many  miles.  It  is  a  small  spring  of  which  an  Irish-  California 
man  has  taken  possession,  as  it  is  the  place  where  travelers  are  Pilgrimage 
obliged  to  stop.  He  has  a  canvas  house  of  one  room,  and  sup- 
ports himself  by  his  gun  and  by  furnishing  provisions  to  parties 
passing  over  the  plains.  A  pile  of  antelope  skins  lying  near  the 
house  gave  an  intimation  of  what  our  fare  was  to  be,  and  we 
soon  had  a  dinner  of  the  meat  cooked  for  us  out  in  the  open 
air.  We  camped  out  near  his  house. 

In  the  evening  a  man  arrived  on  horseback  with  another  led 
horse.  He  proved  to  be  a  Mormon  belonging  to  a  party  camped 
twelve  miles  distant  in  the  hills,  by  whom  he  had  been  sent 
down  for  provisions.  He  was  a  perfed:  specimen  of  the  wild, 
reckless,  swearing  class  of  men  who  infest  this  country,  per- 
fectly careless  of  his  own  life  and  that  of  every  one  else.  Late 
at  night,  to  our  relief,  he  took  his  departure,  and  we  heard  him 
shouting  and  singing  as  he  went  up  through  the  hills,  "making 
night  hideous"  with  his  ribaldry. 

Thursday y  OB.  ii. 

The  stars  were  shining  when  we  arose,  and  as  there  is  no 
dressing  to  be  done,  it  does  not  take  us  long  to  prepare  for  our 
journey.  Before  we  set  out,  "Irish  John"  cooked  a  breakfast 
for  us  out  of  doors.  In  a  few  miles  the  plains  ended,  and  we 
reached  the  hills,  and  then  wound  through  valleys  dotted  with 
old  oak  trees,  and  occasionally  a  little  lake.  We  saw,  as  the  day 
before,  frequent  bands  of  antelopes.  About  noon  we  reached 
Tejon  Pass,  a  valley  hemmed  in  by  mountains,  and  having  at 
its  entrance  a  large  dry  lake  of  saleratus  glittering  in  the  sun. 
The  wind  wafted  up  the  loose  powder  from  the  surface,  and  it 
hung  over  it  like  a  white  cloud.  The  valley  here  is  several  miles 

37 


A    wide,  and  as  we  drove  up  we  saw  on  the  soft  earth,  through  the 

California    whole  length  of  our  way,  the  tracks  of  large  grizzlies  who  had 

Pilgrimage    preceded  us.  As  we  approached  the  military  post  our  driver 

gave  an  increased  crack  to  his  whip  and  urged  the  tired  mules 

to  a  spasmodic  effort  as  we  dashed  up  to  Captain  G.'s  quarters, 

where  he  was  ready  to  receive  us. 

The  fort  at  theTejon  is  on  a  little  plain,  entirely  surrounded 
by  high  mountains,  which  give  it  a  confined  appearance.  It  is, 
however,  a  beautiful  place,  surrounded  by  oak  trees.  Under 
one  of  these,  which  stands  on  the  parade  ground,  in  1837, 
Peter  LaBec,  an  old  hunter,  was  killed  by  a  bear,  and  his  com- 
panions buried  him  at  its  foot.  They  then  stripped  the  bark  for 
some  three  feet  from  the  trunk  of  the  tree  and  carved  on  it  an 
inscription,  surmounted  by  a  cross,  which  remains  to  this  day, 
though  the  bark  is  beginning  to  grow  over  it  on  all  sides. 

The  barracks — handsome  adobe  buildings — are  being  eredted 
around  the  sides  of  the  parade  ground.  None  of  them  are  yet 
finished,  and  the  soldiers  were  living  in  tents.  The  officers,  too, 
were  living  in  canvas  houses,  except  one  who  had  a  small  adobe 
building  which  is  soon  to  be  demolished.  There  are  ordi- 
narily about  six  officers  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  dragoons 
stationed  here,  besides  the  numerous  civilians  who  are  store- 
keepers and  employees  of  the  post.  About  a  dozen  of  the 
dragoons  are  kept  seventeen  miles  off,  on  the  Reservation,  to 
watch  the  Indians. 

Sunday,  OB,  i^. 

There  is  no  service  of  the  Church  within  two  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  of  this  place,  nor  any  religious  service  of  any  kind 
nearer  than  Los  Angeles.  It  happens,  however,  that  all  the 
officers  at  this  post  are  Churchmen — several  are  communi- 

38 


cants — and  two  of  them  have  their  families  here.  One  of  them   ^^ 
was,  therefore,  some  months  ago,  licensed  to  adt  as  lay-reader,    California 
and  our  service  has  been  regularly  performed.    My  objed:  in    Pilgrimage 
spending  this  Sunday  here  was,  by  myself  holding  service,  to 
give  in  the  minds  of  the  men  a  sandtion  to  that  of  the  lay- 
reader — to  administer  the  Holy  Communion,  which  some  of 
them  have  had  no  opportunity  of  receiving  since  they  left  the 
Eastern  States — and  also  to  baptize  several  children,  whose 
families  may  remain  for  several  years  at  this  secluded  post, with- 
out the  opportunity  of  seeing  a  clergyman. 

We  had  service  in  a  large  room  of  the  unfinished  barracks. 
All  the  officers  and  quite  a  number  of  the  men  attended.  At  the 
Communion  there  were  seven  recipients,  besides  the  members 
of  our  own  party.  At  noon  I  baptized  at  one  of  the  officer's 
quarters,  his  child,  which  could  not  be  brought  out  to  service; 
and  after  the  second  lesson,  in  the  afternoon  baptized  the  child 
of  another  officer.  In  the  evening  I  visited  the  family  of  a 
soldier  wfco  had  died  that  day.  He  was  buried  early  the  next 
morning,  his  comrades  firing  their  volleys  over  his  remains, 
after  I  had  read  the  burial  service  at  the  grave. 

Thus  ended  my  Sunday  at  this  dragoon  station.  In  addition 
to  the  pleasantness  of  our  visit  from  the  warm  hospitality  we 
received  from  the  officers,  I  felt  myself  compensated  for  the 
toil  and  labor  of  reaching  here,  by  the  opportunity  afforded  of 
administering  the  solemn  sacraments  of  our  Church  where 
they  had  never  been  witnessed  before,  and  for  the  benefit  of 
those  who  otherwise  might  not  receive  them  from  other  hands 
for  years. 


39 


III.  THE  PLAINS  AND  FORT  MILLER 


A 

California 

Pilgrimage 


Monday y  OB.  75. 
BOUT  1 1  o'clock  we  took  leave  of  our  hos- 
pitable hosts,  several  of  the  officers  accom- 
panying us  on  horseback  for  our  first  day's 
ride.  We  had  the  same  driver  and  heavy 
wagon  as  before,  with  six  mules,  a  guide  on 
horseback  and  two  saddle  horses,  so  that 
some  of  us  could  always  ride,  and  tUus  relieve 
ourselves  and  also  lighten  the  wagon  of  our  weight. 

For  the  first  few  miles  through  the  pass  of  the  mountains 
the  scenery  was  exceedingly  wild,  and  the  descent  so  great  that 
we  had  to  walk  most  of  the  way.  The  road  descends  2,400 
feet  in  five  miles.  From  the  mountain  side  we  had  a  view  of 
the  plain  stretching  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and  in  the 
distance,  glancing  in  the  sunlight,  the  waters  of  Kern  Lake. 
Just  as  we  entered  on  the  plain  we  passed  a  small  Indian  village 
of  about  40  persons. 

We  skirted  the  mountains  about  1 2  miles,  when  we  arrived 
at  the  Indian  Reservation.   Here  we  were  obliged  to  stop  for 
the  rest  of  the  day,  as  Major  Townsend  is  ordered  to  investigate 
40 


FORT  MILLER,  FRESNO  COUNTY 


APPROACH  OVER  THE  OLD  MILITARY  ROAD 


its  condition.  There  is  here  a  tract  of  30,000  acres  set  apart  by  ^ 
the  Government  for  the  Indians,  but  at  present  there  are  some-  California 
what  less  than  300  residing  on  it.  At  this  season,  however,  the  Pilgrimage 
wild  Indians  from  the  mountains  come  down  to  unite  with  them 
in  holding  their  annual  Dog  Feast,  so  that  there  are  about  i  ,000 
present.  We  passed  them  in  groups,  almost  in  a  state  of  nudity, 
washing  their  clothes  by  the  little  stream  which  flows  through 
the  Reserve,  and  on  reaching  their  grand  encampment  stopped 
and  walked  through  it.  Their  lodges  were  arranged  in  a  circle, 
all  opening  inwardly.  They  were  lounging  in  the  shade,  roast- 
ing dogs  and  eating,  while  the  greater  part  of  those  otherwise 
employed  were  gambling.  The  women  particularly  seemed  to 
be  so  intensely  occupied  this  way  that  they  could  scarcely  look 
up  to  us.  They  sat  in  circles  on  the  ground,  and  the  favorite 
game  was  one  with  sticks,  a  foot  long,  thrown  about  like  jack- 
straws. 

We  drove  on  about  four  miles  to  the  residence  of  the  Indian 
agent.  He  has  a  plain  house,  with  a  hall  and  room  on  each  side, 
where  he  lives  with  eight  or  ten  employees.  A  short  distance 
from  the  house,  on  a  little  knoll,  is  the  grave  of  one  of  his  men 
killed  a  month  before  by  a  grizzly. 

At  dark  we  determined  to  visit  the  Indian  camp  to  witness 
some  of  their  ceremonies.  Horses  were  provided  for  us  by  the 
agent,  under  whose  guidance  we  went.  There  was  just  moon 
enough  to  show  the  trails  as  we  galloped  over  the  prairies,  and 
long  before  we  reached  the  camp  we  heard  the  sound  of  the 
Indian  drums.  We  found  them  all  very  busy,  fires  lighted  in  all 
directions,  and  music,  such  as  it  was,  sounding  about.  Some  of 
the  party  tried  dog's  meat,  but  I  was  willing  to  take  their  report 
of  it.  This  feast  was  in  honor  of  the  dead  of  the  past  year,  and 

43 


^  on  one  day  during  its  continuance  they  bury  all  the  efFedts  and 
California  clothes  of  the  departed. 

Pilgrimage  There  was  to  be  a  war  dance  late  in  the  evening  by  some  of 
the  wild  Indians,  which  was  to  take  place  outside  of  the  camp. 
A  large  fire  was  made,  and  we  waited  for  an  hour,  during  which 
time  some  of  the  more  civilized  Indians,  who  had  been  at  one 
time  at  the  old  Missions,  were  singing  songs.  It  was  curious, 
however,  to  hear  in  how  nasal  a  tone  this  was  done,  sounding 
very  much  like  the  intoning  of  the  service  by  the  old  padres, 
from  whom  they  had  undoubtedly  caught  it.  Tired  out  with 
waiting,  I  went  into  an  Indian  lodge  near  and  threw  myself 
down  to  rest.  As  I  lay  there,  looking  up  to  the  roof  above  me, 
made  of  tula  reeds,  the  only  light  being  the  glare  of  the  fire 
before  the  opening  of  the  lodge,  and  listening  to  the  discordant 
singing  of  the  Indians  without,  I  could  not  help  thinking  how 
strange  it  was  to  find  myself  in  such  a  situation  in  this  wild 
country  of  the  Pacific  coast. 

Hearing  at  last  that  the  war  party  had  finished  painting  and 
were  nearly  ready,  we  walked  out  in  search  of  them.  We  found 
them  grouped  around  the  dim  embers  of  a  fire,  so  that  they 
were  hardly  distinguishable,  singing  in  a  low  droning  tone,  as 
if  preparing  their  spirits  for  the  task.  After  a  time  they  rose, 
and  repairing  to  where  the  large  fire  had  been  built,  ranged 
themselves  before  it.  The  musicians,  half  a  dozen  in  number, 
seated  on  the  ground  on  the  other  side,  began  their  playing,  a 
rude  chant,  in  which  the  dancers  joined,  accompanied  by 
the  noise  of  sticks  struck  together.  The  dancers  were  entirely 
naked,  except  a  slight  girdle  round  the  loins,  with  a  necklace  of 
bear's  claws,  and  a  tiara  of  feathers  on  their  heads.  Their  bodies 
were  entirely  painted,  while  their  leader  had  a  horizontal  line 

44 


drawn  across  his  face  just  below  the  nose,  the  upper  half  of  the  -^ 
face  being  painted  white  and  the  lower  half  black,  through  Caltfornta 
which  his  teeth  gleamed  like  those  of  a  wolf.  They  had  the  Pilgrimage 
appearance  of  demons  more  than  anything  else. 

They  commenced  the  dance,  which  was  most  violent  in  its 
character,  so  that  the  perspiration  rolled  down  from  off  them 
in  streams.  It  was  a  commemoration  of  the  dead,  and  as  those 
who  died  in  battle  were  mentioned  in  succession,  the  leader 
went  through  the  representation  of  their  deaths,  throwing 
himself  down  on  the  ground  and  acting  the  last  scene  with  its 
struggles  and  exhaustion.  Sometimes  he  threw  himself  into  the 
precise  attitude  of  the  antique  statue,  "The  Dying  Gladiator," 
at  Rome.  As  the  dance  went  on,  they  seemed  to  work  them- 
selves up  into  an  intense  excitement,  and  would  continue  it, 
we  were  told,  till  morning.  I  confess  I  was  somewhat  relieved 
when  late  at  night  the  signal  was  made  for  our  party  to  dis- 
engage themselves  from  the  crowd  of  Indians  and  get  without 
the  camp  preparatory  to  our  return.  It  was  clear  starlight,  and 
there  was  something  exhilarating  in  our  ride,  as  for  about  an 
hour  we  followed  the  guidance  of  the  agent  over  what  seemed 
to  us  the  pathless  prairie. 

Can  anything  be  done  for  the  spiritual  benefit  of  these  In- 
dians ?  It  is  difficult  to  tell,  as  they  are  so  migratory  in  their 
habits,  seldom  remaining  together  in  large  bodies  for  any 
length  of  time.  The  old  padres  succeeded  with  them  because 
there  was  no  outside  influence  to  oppose  their  schemes.  There 
is  every  variety  of  Indian  tribe  in  this  region,  from  the  warlike 
Indians  at  the  north  and  on  the  borders  of  Mexico,  down  to  the 
Digger  Indians,  who  seem  to  live  a  mere  degraded  animal  life. 
Still,  the  experiment  might  be  tried  on  one  of  the  northern 

45 


A   Reservations,  where  a  better  class  of  Indians  are  colledted.  In- 
California  telledually  these  Indians  seem  to  be  exceedingly  bright,  and 
Pilgrimage  children  taken  into  families  as  servants  learn  the  English  lan- 
guage with  great  facility. 

The  Indian  agent  entertained  us  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
giving  one  room  in  which  there  was  a  bed  to  myself  and  son, 
and  the  only  other  room  to  the  rest  of  our  party,  who  slept  on 
the  floor  wrapped  in  their  blankets. 

Tuesday,  OB.  i6. 

We  were  up  by  daylight,  and  after  washing  at  a  little  stream 
near  the  house,  had  breakfast  furnished  us  at  the  agent's.  After 
driving  about  six  miles,  we  came  to  some  springs  called  "The 
Sinks,"  where  we  found  two  men  who  had  camped  during  the 
night.  This  was  the  last  water  we  were  to  see  for  more  than  30 
miles,  and  here,  too,  we  took  leave  of  all  evidences  of  human 
life  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Before  us  stretched  a  plain,  scorched, 
dry,  and  apparently  boundless,  without  a  tree  for  miles.  At  a 
distance,  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  day,  we  saw  a  lake,  the 
borders  of  which  seemed  lined  with  bands  of  antelopes. 

By  mid-day  the  sun  was  burning  hot,  and  we  dragged  over 
wastes  of  sand  till  our  animals  drooped,  and  we  ourselves  were 
almost  exhausted.  At  noon  we  halted  a  few  minutes  to  rest, 
though  in  the  glare  of  the  sun,  and  without  leaving  our  wagon 
took  such  lunch  as  our  stores  afforded.  Then  on — on  we  wiled 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  We  met  but  one  person — a  Mexican  on 
horseback.  In  the  afternoon  the  ground  became  rolling,  and 
as  we  dragged  up  each  knoll  we  hoped  to  see  some  traces  of  the 
promised  river,  but  before  us  was  only  a  new  succession  of  the 
same  barren  mounds.  Our  guide  and  driver  began  an  animated 
discussion  about  the  dired:ion  of  the  different  trails,  until  we 

46 


feared  that  they  had  mistaken  their  way.   At  length  Major  A 
Townsend,  riding  forward  to  the  crown  of  one  of  the  mounds,  California 
announced  that  he  saw  the  river  below.  We  found  it  was  in  a  Pilgrimage 
deep  valley,  with  a  line  of  trees  through  it  showing  the  presence 
of  water.  We  left  the  wagon  to  let  it  drive  down  the  precipi- 
tous bank,  and  then  walked  half  a  mile  to  the  Kern  River, 
having  traveled  3  3  miles  without  water. 

The  Kern  River  is  about  100  feet  broad,  from  two  to  six 
feet  deep,  and  flowing  with  a  beautifully  clear  stream.  On  the 
bank  we  found  a  canvas  shantee  belonging  to  a  man  who  has 
settled  himself  here  and  constructed  a  scow  with  which,  in  the 
rainy  season  when  the  river  is  high,  he  ferries  over  any  chance 
passengers.  He  warned  us  to  be  on  our  guard,  as  the  Mexicans, 
some  fifty  miles  above,  having  been  driven  out  by  the  inhabi- 
tants, were  dispersed  over  the  country,  and  had  committed  a 
number  of  murders. 

We  crossed  the  river  and  camped  in  a  grove  of  cottonwoods 
and  willows,  perfed:ly  tired  out.  Never  was  the  sight  of  water 
so  grateful  to  us,  and  we  now  could  realize  the  meaning  of  the 
Eastern  description — "a  barren  and  dry  land  where  no  water 
is.'*  A  good  bath  in  the  river,  however,  refreshed  us,  and  after 
building  our  fire  and  having  supper,  we  spent  a  pleasant  even- 
ing reclining  on  our  blankets  about  the  burning  logs. 

Wednesday y  October  ly. 
We  were  awakened  before  dawn  by  the  howling  of  the 
coyotes  about  us,  and  after  a  few  hurried  mouthfuls  were  off 
before  six.  Late  at  night  we  had  seen  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river  a  fire,  showing  that  some  others  had  camped  there. 
At  daylight  they  crossed,  and  we  found  they  were  two  men  on 

47 


jl  horseback  from  the  upper  mines,  crossing  the  country  to  Kern 

California  River  mines.   On  the  plains  they  had  taken  the  wrong  trail 

Pilarimaj^e  and  wandered  about  all  day,  almost  dying  of  exhaustion.  As 

one  of  them  expressed  it,  "starved  to  death  for  want  of  water." 

Providentially,  late  at  night  they  struck  the  Kern  River. 

After  leaving  the  grove  by  the  river,  we  entered  at  once 
among  the  most  desolate  hills.  Not  a  sign  of  herbage  was  seen 
in  them — not  enough  to  attract  a  bee.  We  met  with  no  evi- 
dences of  animal  life  through  the  whole  morning,  except  a 
large  gray  wolf,  which  was  stealing  away  between  the  hills. 
As  one  of  our  party  said,  it  was  "Sahara  in  mountains."  The 
road  (if  such  it  could  be  called)  was  an  old  Indian  trail  wind- 
ing through  the  defiles  between  these  barren  hills,  and  so  little 
worn  that  most  of  the  time  we  were  obliged  to  walk  to  avoid 
the  steep  pitches.  As  the  day  advanced  the  heat  became  almost 
suffocating,  as  the  hills  excluded  the  air,  while  the  reflection 
of  the  sun  from  their  sandy  sides  made  an  intolerable  glare. 

Our  guide  informed  us  that  at  noon  we  should  reach  a  camp- 
ing ground  where  there  was  water.  At  that  time  we  saw  indeed 
a  line  of  green  trees  in  one  of  the  valleys,  showing  a  water 
course,  but  on  reaching  it  we  found  it  almost  entirely  dry. 
There  were  two  springs  near  it,  both  so  strongly  impregnated 
with  sulphur  that  we  could  not  drink  of  them,  so  that  we  had 
to  content  ourselves  with  the  hope  of  reaching  White  River  in 
the  evening.  We  saw,  however,  numerous  places  around  where 
stakes  had  been  driven  into  the  ground  for  picketing  animals, 
showing  that  it  had  been  frequently  used  as  a  camping  ground. 

The  journey  of  the  afternoon  was  as  oppressive  as  that  of  the 
morning.  We  were  constantly  passing  deep  gulches  and  over 
hills  where  we  had  to  get  out  and  walk.  How  often,  when  we 

48 


had  taken  refuge  behind  some  rock  against  the  heat  of  the  sun,  A 

did  we  realize  the  force  of  that  Scripture  imagery — "Like  the  California 

shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land  1"  Towards  evening  a  Pilgrtmage 

large  grizzly  was  seen  about  a  mile  from  us,  among  the  hills. 

The  two  gentlemen  who  were  on  horseback,  together  with  a 

third,  mounted  on  our  guide's  horse,  went  off  with  their  rifles 

to  attack  him,  approaching  from  three  points  so  as  to  distract 

his  attention,  as  he  would  probably  make  a  rush  at  the  first  one 

who  fired.  But  Bruin,  probably  alarmed  by  seeing  so  many 

approaching,  galloped  over  the  hill  and  took  refuge  in  a  ravine, 

where  he  was  lost  to  them. 

At  sunset  we  saw  at  a  distance  in  the  valley  the  line  of  green 
trees  which  marked  the  course  of  White  River.  Our  exhausted 
animals  seemed  to  toil  on  with  new  vigor,  but  our  disappoint- 
ment cannot  easily  be  described  when  we  found  that  it  was  en- 
tirely dry — nothing  but  a  bed  of  shining  sand.  We  had  traveled 
33  miles,  equal  to  53  miles  of  ordinary  traveling.  We  crossed 
on  the  dry  bed,  and  ranging  up  the  bank  for  some  distance, 
came  to  the  canvas  house  of  a  squatter,  near  whom  we  camped 
in  a  grove  of  oaks.  He  had  dug  a  shallow  well,  which  was  not 
a  spring,  but  water  oozed  up  through  the  earth,  and  was  as 
muddy,  therefore,  as  the  usual  water  of  our  gutters.  We  pro- 
cured enough,  however,  to  make  some  tea,  though  there  was 
none  for  our  poor  animals  after  their  hot  day's  work,  and  after 
a  hasty  meal  were  soon  asleep  around  our  fire. 

Thursday,  OBober  18. 
We  were  stirring  long  before  dawn,  and  off  as  soon  as  it  was 
light  enough  to  harness,  it  being  necessary  to  push  on  as  fast 
as  possible  to  procure  water.  The  country  was  of  the  same 

49 


A  charadber  as  yesterday,  sandy  and  desolate.  When  going  up  a 
California  hill,we  discovered  that  one  of  the  hind  wheels  was  just  coming 
Ptlgrtmage  off.  The  lynch-pin  was  gone,  and  we  were  detained  while  our 
guide  rode  back  some  miles  to  look  for  it.  His  search,  however, 
was  vain,  and  one  had  to  be  made  from  wood,  though  a  poor 
substitute  for  the  iron  one,  and  needing  constant  watching. 
About  lo  o'clock  we  found  a  spring  among  the  hills,  sur- 
rounded by  a  clump  of  willows,  where,  by  building  a  dam 
across  the  little  trickling  stream,  we  procured  enough  for  our 
breakfast  and  to  refresh  our  wearied  animals.  After  leaving 
this  spot,  from  the  side  of  a  hill  we  had  a  striking  view  of  the 
Great  Tulare  Valley.  It  stretched  as  far  as  the  horizon,  one 
unbroken,  scorched,  and  yellow  waste,  with  what  seemed  a 
single  thread  of  green  running  through  it,  showing  the  course 
of  Deep  Creek. 

A  few  miles  on  we  met  a  wretched  looking  objecfltravelingon 
foot  on  his  way  from  the  mines.  He  seemed  almost  exhausted, 
and  we  relieved  his  wants,  as  far  as  we  could,  by  giving  him 
something  to  eat  and  drink,  and  dired:ing  him  where  he  could 
find  the  spring  we  had  left.  A  couple  of  hours  afterwards  we 
met  the  sheriff  with  an  assistant,  who  informed  us  he  had  been 
breaking  up  a  band  of  robbers,  some  of  whom  had  been  taken, 
while  others  were  still  lurking  within  thickets  on  Tulare 
River,  where  we  exped:ed  to  encamp. 

At  noon  we  reached  Three  Creeks,  but  found  it  dry.  A  squat- 
ter by  the  river  had,  however,  dug  some  pits,  from  which  we 
procured  a  small  supply  of  water.  We  passed  through  the  same 
kind  of  country  till  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  when  we  saw 
at  a  distance  the  trees  on  the  banks  of  Tulare  River.  We  crossed 
it  and  camped  in  a  grove  of  oaks.  After  a  refreshing  bath  in  its 

50 


beautiful  clear  waters,  we  had  a  visit  from  a  Mr.  G — ,  who  had  A 

settled  on  the  river  near  our  camping  ground.  He  invited  us  to   California 

tea,  which  we  were  most  happy  to  accept,  and  we  shall  long   Pilgfimage 

remember  the  hospitality  of  these  good  people.  Their  house 

was  but  a  single  room,  with  a  couple  of  beds  in  the  corners,  but 

they  gave  us  a  capital  tea,  at  which  they  presided  with  a  dignity 

not  often  seen  in  "the  states".  We  spent  an  hour  after  tea  with 

our  host,  during  which  time  he  entertained  us  with  adventures 

in  the  wilderness  and  stories  of  grizzlies  attacking  parties  in  the 

thickets  by  the  river  where  we  had  camped.  We  probably  that 

night  were  a  little  more  careful  than  usual  in  keeping  our  fire 

replenished. 

Friday,  OBober  ig. 

On  our  way,  as  usual,  by  daybreak.  I  awoke  with  a  feeling 
of  illness  which  increased  during  our  drive  of  19  miles  over  a 
scorched  plain.  We  at  length  entered  an  oak  forest  of  the  most 
splendid  trees,  having  in  it  here  and  there  small  settlements  of 
Indians,  who  were  busily  engaged  in  collecting  their  winter 
store  of  acorns.  After  going  through  this  for  nine  miles  we 
came  to  a  stream  called  "Four  Creeks"  which  we  crossed  and 
camped  beyond  among  the  oaks.  It  was  but  little  past  noon,  but 
the  next  water  being  1 8  miles  on,  it  was  too  far  for  our  mules  to 
go  that  day.  The  woods  here  seemed  to  be  swarming  with 
Indians,  so  that  we  are  obliged  to  keep  a  stridt  watch  on  our 
wagon. 

My  illness  having  increased,  I  lay  down  on  the  hard  boards 
of  the  wagon,  where  I  remained  till  sundown,  thinking,  in  case 
I  was  to  be  really  ill,  what  should  I  do? — two  days'  journey 
fromany  settlement  orphysician.  Life  in  the  wilderness  answers 
in  perfect  health,  but  not  in  sickness.  Towards  evening,  feeling 

51 


A  better,  probably  from  rest  and  abstinence,  I  crossed  the  river  to 
California  a  shell  of  a  house  which  a  squatter  had  erected  on  the  opposite 
Pilgrimage  side,  where  we  procured  tea.  The  woman  who  prepared  it  for 
us  was  suffering  from  fever  and  ague,  which  is  common  on  all 
these  river  bottoms.  Her  wretched  appearance  did  not  impress 
us  favorably  with  regard  to  our  night's  rest  in  the  open  air  in 
this  malarious  atmosphere. 

Saturday,  OBober  20. 

Up  before  light,  and  drove  about  nine  miles  through  the 
oaks  to  a  solitary  house  where  we  procured  breakfast.  The 
house  consisted  of  but  one  room,  three  of  the  corners  of  which 
were  occupied  by  beds.  The  next  1 8  miles  were  over  the  hot 
plains — then  about  seven  miles  through  the  forest  again,  crossing 
several  dry  river  beds  filled  with  cobble  stones,  till  late  in  the 
afternoon  we  reached  Kings  River,  a  bright  stream  about  200 
feet  wide.  We  forded  it,  and  found  on  the  opposite  side  a  beau- 
tiful plateau  covered  with  oaks.  Two  teamsters  had  camped 
there  with  their  mules,  who  told  us  they  were  obliged  to  cross 
the  plains  we  had  been  over,  in  the  night  to  avoid  the  excessive 
heat.  There  were  large  bodies  of  Indians  on  the  banks,  whom 
we  visited  after  our  camping  was  arranged.  They  employed 
themselves  in  fishing  and  hunting,  being  exceedingly  skillful 
with  the  bow  and  arrow. 

Being  out  of  provisions,  we  purchased  some  fish  of  the  I  ndians, 
while  Major  Townsend  and  our  guide  forded  the  river  on  horse- 
back, and  riding  up  some  distance  came  to  a  settler's  house, 
where  they  bought  some  chickens  and  eggs.  The  fallen  trees 
around  us  furnished  an  abundant  supply  of  fuel  for  our  cooking 
and  fires  through  the  night. 

We  had  expedted  this  night  to  have  reached  Fort  Miller, 

52 


but  found  ourselves  30  miles  distant.  We  had  been  mistaken  in  A 
our  calculations  from  the  necessity  of  arranging  our  journeys  California 
each  day  with  regard  to  the  supply  of  water.   Stay  where  we  Pilgrimage 
were,  however,  over  Sunday,  we  could  not.    We  had  no  pro- 
visions, and  the  air  was  so  malarious,  that  we  found  the  Indians 
about  us,  though  born  on  the  spot,  were  decreasing  in  numbers 
through  the  effects  of  the  fever  and  ague.  Nothing  remained 
for  us,  therefore,  but  to  push  on  next  morning,  and  reach  Fort 
Miller  as  early  as  possible,  that  a  portion  of  the  day  at  least 
might  be  devoted  to  its  proper  objects. 

Sunday y  OBober  2lst, 
We  were  up  this  morning  by  four  o'clock,  long  before  the 
faintest  streak  of  dawn  appeared  in  the  east.  After  a  hasty  break- 
fast of  sea-biscuit  and  hard-boiled  eggs,  we  set  off  while  it  was 
so  dark  that  we  could  not  see  the  trail  through  the  open  woods, 
but  were  obliged  for  some  miles  to  trust  to  the  sagacity  of  the 
mules,  leaving  them  to  walk  and  find  the  path  for  themselves. 
After  a  few  miles  we  emerged  from  the  oak  openings,  when 
the  rest  of  our  way  was,  as  usual,  over  the  dusty,  scorched  plains. 
Between  10  and  1 1  o'clock  we  reached  the  hills  overlooking 
Fort  Miller,  and  walked  on,  leaving  the  heavy  wagon  to  plunge 
down  the  steep  hill  side  as  it  best  could.  We  passed  through 
the  infant  town  of  Millerton,  on  the  San  Joaquin  River,  about 
half  a  mile  from  the  fort.  It  consists  of  some  20  houses,  most  of 
them  of  canvas,  two  or  three  being  shops,  and  the  majority  of 
the  rest  drinking  saloons  and  billiard  rooms.  The  population 
is  Mexican,  or  the  lowest  class  of  whites,  and  on  this  day  they 
seemed  to  be  given  up  entirely  to  dissipation. 

The  fort  is  situated  on  a  plateau  overlooking  the  town  and 

53 


A  river.  It  is  an  artillery  fort,  and  at  this  time  had  about  70  men 
California  stationed  here.  The  service  of  our  Church  had  never  been  per- 
Pilgrimage  formed  here,  nor  had  there  been  anything  to  mark  the  day 
when  Sunday  came.  Arrangements  were  soon  made  after  our 
arrival  for  the  service  in  the  evening,  and  a  broad  hall  in  one  of 
the  buildings  devoted  to  the  officers  was  cleared  for  that  pur- 
pose. The  officers  attended  and  many  of  the  soldiers,  and  after 
the  Second  Lesson  I  baptized  the  child  of  one  of  the  privates. 
A  beginning  having  thus  been  made,  before  I  left  the  fort  I 
licensed  Dr.  M — ,  the  surgeon,  a  communicant  of  our  Church, 
to  a6t  as  lay-reader,  and  arrangements  were  made  for  having 
the  service  regularly  every  Sunday. 

We  remained  at  the  post  for  ten  days,  resting  from  the  fatigue 
of  our  journey  and  enjoying  the  open  hospitality  of  the  officers. 
Our  arrangements  were  made  to  leave  on  Wednesday,  leaving 
behind  Major  T.,  whose  professional  duties  required  him  to 
remain  for  a  few  days,  and  one  other  of  our  party.  Here,  too, 
we  left  our  wagon,  for  a  small  stage  had  recently  penetrated  as 
far  as  Fort  Miller.  It  had  only  made  two  trips  when  we  had 
occasion  to  employ  it.  It  runs  to  Snelling's — about  70  miles — 
where  we  are  in  the  region  of  the  regular  stage  routes. 

It  came  for  us  before  daylight,  and  taking  leave  of  our  hos- 
pitable entertainers,  we  commenced  our  journey  on  the  banks 
of  the  San  Joaquin.  About  nine  o'clock  we  stopped  at  a  solitary 
house  intended  for  teamsters,  where  for  one  dollar  each  we  had 
a  breakfast,  but  everything  was  so  filthy  that  we  could  hardly 
eat  even  after  our  long  morning  ride.  The  drive  for  the  whole 
day  was  over  the  same  kind  of  country  as  during  the  preceding 
week — desolate  plains  varied  with  an  occasional  hill,  and  now 
and  then  a  cattle  ranch.  We  drove  on  through  the  whole  route 

54 


without  stopping,  except  to  change  horses,  until  night,  when    A 

we  reached  Snelling's  Tavern,  a  central  point  from  which    California 

stages  go  up  through  Mariposa  county.  Pilgrimage 

The  next  morning  the  stage  started  at  four  o'clock,  fortu- 
nately bright  moonlight,  which  lasted  till  daylight  took  its 
place.  We  had  half  a  dozen  passengers,  including  a  Chinese. 
After  fording  Stanislaus  River  we  had  another  wretchedly 
filthy  breakfast  at  a  tavern  on  its  banks.  The  country  we  passed 
through  began  now  to  show  signs  of  cultivation.  Oak  trees  are 
scattered  park-like  through  it,  and  we  passed  rich  farms,  in- 
creasing as  we  approached  Stockton.  We  reached  there  at 
4  p.  m.,  just  in  time  for  the  boat,  and  the  next  morning  awoke 
at  the  wharf  in  San  Francisco,  after  being  absent  about  a  month. 

Thanks  to  a  kind  providence,  after  all  the  dangers  we  had 
passed  through,  we  reached  home  without  a  single  accident,  or 
any  case  of  illness  among  our  party.  I  was  able  to  accomplish 
all  I  designed.  Knowing  the  state  of  things  at  Los  Angeles,  I 
can  now  speak  understandingly  to  any  clergyman  who  can  go 
there,  and  I  trust  before  next  spring  some  such  will  be  pro- 
vided. Forts  Tejon  and  Miller  will  have  the  services  of  the 
Church  regularly  through  their  lay-readers,  and  need  not  again 
be  visited  for  a  long  while.  The  remainder  of  the  country  we 
have  passed  through  cannot  evidently  be  settled  for  many  years, 
and  I  shall  probably,  therefore,  never  again  be  obliged  to  travel 
the  same  route  we  did  on  this  occasion. 


SS 


COMMITTEE  OF  ARRANGEMENTS  A 

Very  Rev.  G.  R.  E.  MacDonald,  Chairman  California 

Mrs.  L.  L.  Cory  Pilgrimage 

*Rev.  George  Greirsen  Hoisholt 
Mr.  Charles  H.  Miller 
Mrs.  H.  C.  Tupper 
Mr.  L.  a.  Winchell  

CLERGY  {Vested) 

Rt.  Rev.  Louis  C.  Sanford,  D.  D. 

Bishop  of  San  Joaquin 
Rt.  Rev.  Wm.  Ford  Nichols,  D.  D. 

Bishop  of  California 
Rev.  W.  B.  Belliss,  Lindsay 
Rev.  a.  Carswell,  Madera 
Rev.  L.  W.  Doud,  Ph.  D. 
Rev.  David  Todd  Gillmor,  Hanford 
Rev.  F.  D.  Graves,  Reedley 
Rev.  a.  L.  Walters,  Tulare 
Rev.  L.  a.  Wood,  Porterville 


LAYMEN  {Vested) 

Mr.  Wm.  C.  Harvey,  Crucifer 

Mr.  Haydn  Arrowsmith,  Flag  Bearer 


OTHER  CLERGY 

Rev.  T.  T.  Giffen 

Rev.  Cornelius  Richert 

Rabbi  Alexander  Segel 

*  Absent 

6i 


A 

California  ,,     ^t         a 

*'^  Mrs.  Havdn  Arrowsmith 

Pilgrimage  Mr.  Charles  R.  Barnard 
Mr.  Robert  R.  Barnard 
Mr.  B.  L.  Barney,  Hanford 
Mrs.  W.  B.  Belliss,  Lindsay 
Mrs.  N.  J.  Blayney 
Mrs.  Alfred  Braverman 
Mrs.  F.  R.  Burchill,  Lindsay 
Mrs.  J.  H.  Burnett 
Mrs.  Marian  Camp 
Mrs.  Sarah  Camp,  San  Francisco 
Mrs.  Edward  Copland 
Mrs.  M.  p.  Copland 
Mr.  George  R.  Couper,  Madera 
Mrs.  George  R.  Couper,  Madera 
Mrs.  William  Davidson,  Porterville 
Mrs.  Milton  Bearing 
Mrs.  Kate  B.  Everett,  Tulare 
Mrs.  C.  Evins 
Miss  Clark  Farley 
Mrs.  G.  M.  Fickle,  Reedley 
Mrs.  W.  a.  Fisher 
Mrs.  Jules  Fontaine 
Mrs.  M.  L.  French,  Selma 
Mrs.  Constance  Ganse,  Tulare 
Mrs.  T.  T.  Giffen 
Miss  Alice  Giffen 
Miss  Marian  Giffen 
Mrs.  J.  W.  Gillingham,  Reedley 
Mrs.  F.  D.  Graves,  Reedley 
Miss  Sarah  Graves,  Reedley 
Mrs.  Weltha  Hall,  Porterville 
Mr.  Thomas  Harrison,  Hanford 
Mrs.  Wm.  C.  Harvey 
Mrs.  G.  a.  Hatfield 
Mr.  R.  J.  Heathcote,  Hanford 
Mrs.  Frank  Helm 
Mrs.  George  Helm 

62 


LAY  PILGRIMS 


Mrs.  Annie  R.  Hewitt 

Mr.  J.  D.  Hirschler,  Reedley 

Mrs.  J.  D.  Hirschler,  Reedley 

Mrs.  Edward  C.  Hopkins,  Porterville 

Master  Faris  Melvin  Humphreys 

Mrs.  Georgia  Cox  Ingram,  Oilfields 

Mrs.  E.  B.  Isham,  Porterville 

Mrs.  Wilhelmina  Jensen,  Parlier 

Mr.  Viggo  Krag,  Parlier 

Mrs.  M.  L.  Lechlider 

Mr.  O.  D.  Lyon,  Reedley 

Mrs.  O.  D.  Lyon,  Reedley 

Mrs.  G.  R.  E.  MacDonald 

Master  Bruce  Manson 

Mrs.  Guy  Manson 

Mr.  W.  T.  Matting  ly 

Mr.  J.  C.  McCubbin 

Mrs.  W.  J.  McNulty 

Miss  Luella  Melvin 

Mrs.  Charles  H.  Miller 

Mrs.  S.  J.  Miller 

Mrs.  Fannie  B.  Minor 

Miss  Margaret  Moore 

Mr.  H.  R.  Morton 

Mrs.  H.  R.  Morton 

Master  Henry  Morton 

Miss  Louise  Morton 

Mr.  a.  C.  Mudge 

Mrs.  Frank  Naden,  Clovis 

Mrs.  H.  E.  Patterson 

Mrs.  L.  N.  Peart 

Master  Roscoe  Peart 

Mr.  a.  W.  Peters 

Mrs.  a.  W.  Peters 

Master  Archibald  W.  Peters,  Jr. 

Master  Edwin  Peters 

Mr.  Bernard  Reinold,  Madera 

Mrs.  Bernard  Reinold,  Madera 


LAY  FILGRIMS— Continued 


Mrs.  J.  G.  Rhodes 

Mrs.  G.  a.  Riggins 

Mrs.  Susan  Roberts 

Mrs.  F.  E.  Robinson 

Mr.  C.  p.  Roche 

Mr.  G.  a.  Roessler 

Mrs.  G.  a.  Roessler 

Miss  Julia  Randolph  Roessler 

Mrs.  J.  E.  Rolkey,  San  Jose 

Mr.  Fred  P.  Roullard 

Mrs.  Fred  P.  Roullard 

Mr.  Joel  Roullard 

Mrs.  Joel  Roullard 

Mrs.  Albert  M.  Rutherford 

Mrs.  L.  C.  Sanford 

Master  Royal  Sanford 

Miss  Jessie  Savage,  Lindsay 

Mrs.  S.  R.  Scroggins,  Selma 

Mr.  H.  R.  Shaw 

Mrs.  H.  R.  Shaw 


Hon.  S.  L.  Strother 

Mrs.  S.  L.  Strother 

Dr.  J.  F.  Summers 

Mrs.  G.  H.  Tayler,  Reedley 

Mrs.  Montgomery  Thomas 

Dr.  Roland  Tupper 

Mr.  Walter  G.  Uridge    " 

Mrs.  Walter  G.  Uridge 

Mrs.  Bruce  Wagner,  Hanford 

Mrs.  C.  N.  Wakefield 

Mr.  Ben  R.  Walker 

Master  Albert  Clark  Walker 

Mrs.  E.  a.  Walrond 

Mrs.  a.  L.  Walters,  Tulare 

Miss  Dorothy  Walters,  Tulare 

Master  Henry  Walters,  Tulare 

Miss  Margaret  Walters,  Tulare 

Mr.  George  S.  Waterman 

Miss  Marion  Wheeler 

Mrs.  L.  a.  Winchell 


A 

California 
Pilgrimage 


Two  hundred  and  fifty  copies  of  A  CaUfornia  Pilgrimage 

have  been  printed  by  Bruce  Brough  at  San  Francisco 

in  the  month  offune  nineteen  hundred  twenty -one 


No.      4    7 


14  DAY  USE 

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LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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